


this hunger consumes me

by girl_eater



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, F/M, Masturbation, Sad Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Shame, Step-Sibling Incest, otherwise known as Dimitri has a depression wank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27339019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl_eater/pseuds/girl_eater
Summary: [Set during the Blue Lions route, after the Mock Battle.]Claude thought he was only joking when he asked Dimitri if he was into Edelgard. Little did he know how right he was.-Dimitri is a sad boi and can't stomach his feelings for Edelgard.-
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Kudos: 34





	this hunger consumes me

**Author's Note:**

> I've only JUST started the Blue Lions route, so I'm only 95% confident in my ability to write Dimitri. But this idea wouldn't leave me alone, because damn Claude really called my man out like that ON THE BATTLEFIELD. I've also never written a male masturbation scene, so there's that. (:

Dimitri balled his hands into fists. 

Winning the mock battle hadn’t made him feel anything, not proud or even the slightest bit happy. He had always been modest about his achievements, downplaying the great strides he made in Professor Byleth’s class. He didn’t believe he ever -earned- that praise, and beating Claude and Edelgard left him feeling just as empty as if he had lost. 

Though, knocking Claude to the ground had felt oddly satisfying. 

Perhaps it was the other boy’s usual smug nature, or perhaps it was how he had taunted Dimitri about what he felt for Edelgard. The words leaving Claude’s mouth had made Dimitri see red, rage bubbling up inside of him, and the grip he’d had on his lance tightened. He could have killed Claude in an instant, yet as quickly as the anger had come, it dissipated. 

Dimitri felt guilty for being so angry. 

He shut the door to his bedroom, resting his forehead against the heavy wood. His eyes fell shut, and he let out a breath. The guilt and shame Dimitri carried around was a heavy weight, and some days he wished it would just crush him. He’d gladly crumble beneath it, body breaking and heart stopping. Dimitri pulled away from the door, running his fingers through his hair. The strands were still damp with sweat, and his muscles were sore. The battle had been difficult, even under Professor Byleth’s leadership. 

Dimitri had taken more hits than he usually would have, his attention focused elsewhere. Edelgard had stood on the other side of the battlefield, Professor Manuela guiding her and the rest of the Black Eagles. Edelgard had looked so…-elegant.- She always did, on and off the battlefield. It was painful to watch sometimes; watching her walk across the halls of Garreg Mach with that air of superiority. Dimitri knew what was beneath that though, she was still the little girl he knew all those years ago, the one who was terrified of rats and who stumbled over her words sometimes and didn’t know how to explain the way she felt. No one else would ever see that, except Hubert and that thought alone made Dimitri feel a spark of jealousy he knew wasn’t needed. 

Hubert had every right to see beneath Edelgard’s armor, Dimitri just wanted to pretend he was special. At least he was still the only one to call her El. 

The thought made him smile, chapped lips cracking with the effort. He licked a bit of blood from his bottom lip, the taste of copper in his mouth more comforting than he would have liked. Dimitri busied himself with taking off his armor, letting it all fall to the floor with a clatter. He didn’t care, he could deal with it later when his thoughts weren’t a mess and his head didn’t ache so badly. Dimitri felt exposed, his skin and the scars adorning so much of it on display for no one to see. But the walls felt like they had eyes and mouths, their looks scornful, and their words taunting him. It was easy to blame Claude, to insist that his...accusation was the cause of Dimitru’s distress, but it wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t. No matter how much he tried to pin the blame on someone else, it always made Dimitri feel even worse. The blame was on his shoulders alone. 

Dimitri sat on the edge of his bed, idly running his fingertips along a scar on his forearm. Where had he gotten it? He couldn’t remember, it could have been years ago or it could have been a few months ago. He collected scars like coins, amassing all a battle would give him. They reminded Dimitri that he was -alive,- that he could -feel,- that blood still ran through his veins and everything wasn’t some twisted illusion. 

Edelgard made him feel much the same.

He shut his eyes, intending to free himself from thinking about her, but all he achieved was her image dancing behind his eyelids. White hair and lilac eyes, the product of experimentation and torture. She looked beautiful anyway, and it made Dimitri feel -sick.- Every time he looked at her, his stomach felt sour, yet his heart raced a mile a minute. Did Edelgard know? He thought about this often. Did she know what kind of sinful feelings he had for her? Did she ever suspect? 

Dimitri dug his nails into his forearm, digging into the scar he had lovingly been stroking moments before. He hissed in pain, opening his eyes to look around the room. He was alone, the sun had set, and everyone else at the Monastery should have been asleep or occupied. That kind of privacy was dangerous. Dimitri bit his lip, fingers itching to do something about the burning heat in the pit of his stomach, Thinking about Edelgard always ended this way. Nearly every night, laid up in bed with only his desire to keep him company. He wished Edelgard felt the same, but he could never allow himself to indulge that fantasy. Dimitri couldn’t let himself believe a lie. 

A sigh left his lips, and he fell back on his bed. Dimitri stared up at the ceiling, unmoving yet -aching- to do so many to things. His thoughts begged to wander, perversion wrapping around them. Edelgard had looked too good during the battle, her face flushed from exertion, one of her tights ripped from a battle with Dedue. Dimitri couldn’t stand it, he wanted to rip her tights the rest of the way, feel the thin material tear and hear the gasp of surprise he knew Edelgard would let out. 

“El,” 

Dimitri’s voice was raw with need, and he splayed his fingers on his left hand out on the bed, trying to keep them from moving between his legs. His underwear was uncomfortably tight. The need to strip them off and give in to desire was suffocating. He thought of dancing with Edelgard for the first time, all those years ago when they were young. He thought of the way she’d stolen his heart from the moment he laid eyes on her. It wasn’t fair for Edelgard to do this to him.

Dimitri’s mouth was dry, and he swallowed roughly. Edelgard was driving him insane, picking and picking at his sanity until it cracked. 

“Fuck.” 

He shoved his underwear down, cheeks reddening when the reality of his arousal hit him. Dimitri was painfully hard, each second that passed without stimulation driving him to madness. With a grimace, his hand found his cock. His calloused palm against the sensitive skin made him -shudder,- arching his back off the bed. Dimitri imagined what Edelgard’s gloved hand would feel like, thoughts devolving into what her skin would feel like, if she’d be clumsy about touching him or if she’d know what she was doing. Goddess, what would Dimitri do if she knew what she was doing? The spark of jealousy made him grit his teeth, the grip on his member tightening and it took an enormous amount of effort to calm down and retreat back to the safety of his fantasies. 

In Dimitri’s fantasies, Edelgard’s virtue was his.

It takes several moments of building up his nerve before he starts to stroke himself, the action clumsy, his rattled state of mind making his body -tremble.- Dimitri exhales slowly, moving his hand away from his erection so he could spit into his palm. The friction was unpleasant, and once his hand returned to where he needed it the most, he let out a moan into the empty room. 

Dimitri thought of the noises Edelgard made on the battlefield, cries of pain, of victory, of defeat, all blending together in his head until he had his own idea of what she’d sound like in the theories of passion. He worked his cock with fervor, an urgency like he’d explode if he didn’t get off as fast as he could. All that mattered to him right now was release, to feel the tension leave his body so he could sleep without needing to hold his pillow and imagine it was her. He felt pathetic whenever he did that, clinging to an infatuation they’d indulged in so long ago. But Dimitri couldn’t help himself, and tears started to burn his eyes when he thought of Edelgard’s smile while teaching him how to waltz. 

“El,” her nickname on his tongue again, Dimitri moved his hand a little slower, forcing himself to savor the sparks of pleasure running through his body. He thought of kissing her, pinning her to his bed, burying his cock inside of her, and hearing her -moan.- Would she say his name? Would she spit out a confession of undying love while he pumped his hips and marked her neck with his teeth? The thought was almost too much--Dimitri throbbed in his hand, his hips thrusting upwards. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep in the moan that was bubbling up in his throat. Pre-cum oozed from the tip of his cock, and he ran his palm over the tip, imagining Edelgard’s mouth there instead, her tongue, her tasting him and looking into his eyes. 

_"El, El, El,"_

Her name was like a prayer, falling from his lips, pleasure building in the pit of Dimitri’s stomach. His balls felt tight with the need for release, the room around him seeming to spin. He was dizzy with desire, sweat beading at his brow, his chest heaving, breathing heavy. Dimitri arched his back off the bed, body rigid with release, a few more strokes and he saw stars. Cum splattered onto his stomach, some dripping down his hand. Dimitri’s breath was ragged, lungs burning with the intensity of each inhale. 

“Goddess…” 

As if she could save him from his sins. 

Dimitri looked down at his mess, only to turn away in disgust. His hand felt sticky and -dirty,- but his head was pounding and his limbs felt like they’d give out if he tried to move. He gave in to the exhaustion, falling back onto his bed, reaching lamely for his pillow, pushing it against his face. 

He screamed. 

When would Edelgard give his heart back?


End file.
